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They passed solemnly by the body. The priests had done their best to hide the hideous state of the deceased, but it was clear that his death had been very painful. Women sobbed, and even hardened warriors swallowed hard and had to look away. The invasion had been stopped, and just in time. The only walls surrounding the city now were the piles of corpses, every enemy slain, but the cost... The best of them lay defeated. A rider appeared. He spoke quickly to the priest, then yelled to the crowd. “A second wave approaches! The enemy will be here in hours!”

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • Shrine of the Champion
rdfs:comment
  • They passed solemnly by the body. The priests had done their best to hide the hideous state of the deceased, but it was clear that his death had been very painful. Women sobbed, and even hardened warriors swallowed hard and had to look away. The invasion had been stopped, and just in time. The only walls surrounding the city now were the piles of corpses, every enemy slain, but the cost... The best of them lay defeated. A rider appeared. He spoke quickly to the priest, then yelled to the crowd. “A second wave approaches! The enemy will be here in hours!”
dcterms:subject
abstract
  • They passed solemnly by the body. The priests had done their best to hide the hideous state of the deceased, but it was clear that his death had been very painful. Women sobbed, and even hardened warriors swallowed hard and had to look away. The invasion had been stopped, and just in time. The only walls surrounding the city now were the piles of corpses, every enemy slain, but the cost... The best of them lay defeated. The priest spoke movingly of honor, of valor, of sacrifice. He collected donations for a monument, planned a meeting to decide on the form. Then the people turned to rebuild their city and their lives. A rider appeared. He spoke quickly to the priest, then yelled to the crowd. “A second wave approaches! The enemy will be here in hours!” A cry of despair arose. “Then it was for naught!” one old woman said. “We are doomed after all...” “We must flee the city with our lives!” called out another. As the townspeople began to do just that, one lone man shouted out, “No!” He strode up next to the body of their hero. “Is this why he died? So we could run, and live like beaten dogs? What is it you said, priest? ‘His courage is an example to us all; his valor shall be as a scale against us; his sacrifice allows us to carry on in his stead...’ Carry on crying? NO! To carry on fighting! You asked for a memorial, my friends?” The man unsheathed his sword. “This is all the ‘memorial’ my savior needs—a strong arm and a sharp blade to carry on his work, to carry on to completion! Let us fight or die as he did—this is the Shrine to the Champion!” Another blade was raised with his, in defiance of their oncoming foe. Then another, then a score, then a hundred, then a thousand.
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